


On the Cloud Sea

by quartzguts



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Multi, One Word Prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-07-29 03:49:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20075650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quartzguts/pseuds/quartzguts
Summary: 9 stories about Alrest and the people who live there.Each chapter is a self contained 500-1000 word fic themed around a single word, all set in the canon XBC2 universe. Tags will be updated as new chapters are posted.





	1. Deserted - Rex/Pyra

**Author's Note:**

> Edit 10/6/19: changed the projected amount of stories from 25 to 10, because i'm in a bad place and don't think i can write more than that :') whoops!  
Edit 10/29/19: i'm just gonna leave this at 9 chapters actually. i can always write more xenoblade fic later lol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Word: Deserted. No warnings.  
Word count: 833
> 
> Rex and Pyra have a conversation in Temperantia.

\---

Temperantia was a sight to behold. Rex had never seen the so called badlands of Alrest before, and he was starting to understand just why they'd been named so. No matter which direction he looked, he could only see miles of barren rock. The ground was blackened and cracked, the endless waste only interrupted by outcrops of sharp, twisted rock.

"It's completely deserted," Pyra murmured, low enough that only he could hear her. They stood together, looking out over the sea of dust and ash from the high vantage point of Overlook Hill. The others were behind them, talking about what to do next. They’d come back here for training, and although Rex recognized that the monsters here were powerful, looking down at the immobile titan weapon still resting on the plains made his stomach churn.

"I mean, not _ completely_," he said, tearing his eyes away from the titan weapon to look at a pack of giron volff sunbathing a few yards away. They seemed uninterested in the other groups of predators stalking the plains. Rex wondered if they were tired.

Pyra followed his gaze. "Even dangerous predators can become prey here," she said. "Poor things."

"You feel bad for the volff?" Rex asked, laughing a little despite the mood.

He quickly trailed off when he saw Pyra's expression. It was the look she got when she was trying to stop tears from welling up in her eyes. "We did this," she said. "This place is dead because of us. Even if Judicium fell before the war, people still lived here. After we fought here, though - well, you can see. They couldn’t stay."

"Oh," Rex said quietly. Unsure of what to say, he shifted from foot to foot, before squashing down his uncertainty and taking her hand.

Pyra squeezed his hand, leaning closer to him on unsteady feet. "Maybe if I'd controlled my power better, those volff wouldn’t have to scrounge for food. And those people wouldn’t have…."

"You don't know that for sure," Rex said. "Besides, there's nothing we can do about it now. No use dwelling on the past, right?"

"Yes," Pyra said, but it didn't really sound like she agreed with him. Rex realized with an uncomfortable sting that she was looking in the direction of the Aegishammer.

He grimaced. He felt like this was happening a lot lately; Pyra or Mythra would get upset, he'd try to cheer them up, and they'd end up feeling worse because he'd said the wrong thing. He got the feeling that they were hiding something from him. He couldn't see any other explanation for the way they got lost staring off into the distance, or closed up in the middle of a conversation. Rex wanted to ask what it was. He couldn't possibly help them if he didn't know what was wrong, could he?

But he doubted he'd get an answer. He'd accepted soon after he met Pyra that there were things in her past she'd rather not talk about. He liked to think he understood; he hadn’t told her anything about himself at first, either, but he knew it wasn't the same. Rex didn’t think much about his parents or his past because it wasn’t important. All he cared about was the here and now, where there were people depending on him. Pyra was different. Her past was precious, and secret, and Rex felt like it would be intrusive to ask too much about painful things.

He squeezed her hand back. Her palm was warm even through both of their gloves.

"You know, even if this titan didn’t make it," he said, trying not to think about what he was going to say in favor of letting the words come naturally, "all the others kind of owe you their lives, don't they?"

Pyra stared at him, mouth ajar. "What?"

"If you hadn't stopped Malos back then, he would've destroyed everything, right? We wouldn't have Gormott, or Mor Ardain, or Uraya. We might not even have Leftheria! So you kind of saved all of us. Except, uh, you really _ did _save me." Pyra kept staring. He cast his eyes down, looking at the titan weapon again. "What I'm trying to say is, you might've made some mistakes, but you've done a lot of good, too. Don't forget that."

Pyra dropped his hand. Rex turned around quickly, ready to apologize, but was struck dumb by what he saw. She had pulled both of her hands to her chest, cupping her core crystal. The harsh light of the sun cast golden highlights in her hair and made her eyes sparkle. The tiniest smile was on her lips. He couldn't look away.

"Thank you, Rex," she said. "That means a lot. To both of us."

"R-right," Rex said. "Glad I could help."

Zeke yelled something, bringing both of them back to reality. They turned away from the wasteland. Rex caught Gramps' eye, who gave him a proud smile and a nod.

He blushed to his ears.

\---


	2. Offbeat - Mythra/Minoth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Word: offbeat. No warnings.  
Word count: 1013
> 
> Minoth asks Mythra for a favor.

\---

"The sun's going down," Minoth said. Mythra glanced over at him only briefly; looking at him right now was dangerous. With his soft brown hair and gentle expression illuminated by the sunset, well. She'd end up staring, and that would quickly turn into a mess if he noticed. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

Mythra turned to the window. It was pretty, she supposed, all oranges and pinks and reds streaking across the sky. The clouds were glowing pale pink, and the fields surrounding Addam’s manor were colored yellow-green. For once, it was quiet; everyone else had gone into the desert to pick up various things for the townspeople. Monster parts, bits for machines, that sort of thing. Mythra had managed to get out of it with the excuse of being tired, and Minoth had stayed behind to work on his most recent drama.

“This sight is the perfect inspiration,” Minoth continued, clearly not discouraged by Mythra’s silence. “I feel like I could write an entire epic while sitting here.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Mythra said, cringing at her unintentionally gruff tone. “I’m not a writer.”

“Mythra,” Minoth said, and damn it all because now she  _ had  _ to look at him, “I’d like to try something, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure, depending on what it is,” she said, trying to keep her voice level. Inside, she was thinking of all sorts of things she’d like to try with Minoth. Like holding hands, or kissing, or -

“Would you dance with me?”

Mythra’s eyebrows furrowed. “Dancing? Why?”

He chuckled, coming over to stand next to her. His core crystal glittered red and blue in the relative darkness of the room. “Writing is my firstmost passion, but I have an appreciation for all the arts. Dancing is one of the few that requires a partner.”

“Okay, fair enough,” Mythra said, trying to calm the violent beating of her heart. “Why me, though?”

“Well, we fight together almost every day, so I think I’ll be familiar with your moves.”

“You fight with Addam, too.”

“He isn’t here, though, is he?”

Mythra stared at the floor. This wasn't good. “I guess not.”

“So,” Minoth said, holding out his hand, “dance with me.”

She hesitated in taking his hand, although deep down she knew she wanted to. In fact, her wanting to do it was the exact reason why she hesitated. "My armor would get in the way."

He arched an eyebrow. "So take it off? It's not like any monsters are going to attack us here."

_ Malos could, _ Mythra thought, but the thought was intrusive and unpleasant, so she didn’t say it.

Gulping down her nervousness, she let a soft glow of light envelop her body. When it receded, all the pointy and metal bits of her outfit were gone, and she was left in her pleated white dress and boots. Minoth surrounded himself with a similar cloak of darkness, and when it faded so did his jacket, armor, and gloves.

With a start Mythra realized both of their hands were bare. Crap.

She took his hand anyway.

His palm was warm against hers. "Alright, let's start," he said, and then his other hand was wrapping around her waist. Mythra brought her free hand up to his chest, trying to recall the few times she'd seen people dancing. Alrest was an unhappy place currently; people could scarcely consider dancing when they could be killed at any moment by Malos's rampaging artifices or human bandits looking for a fix. There wasn't much call for festivals or parties, either. She managed to dig up a little information in her core about Morythan dancing, and tried her best to follow Minoth's lead without stepping on his toes.

"Ow," he muttered. Mission failed.

"Um, sorry," Mythra said lamely, trying to ignore the blush rising on her cheeks.

"Don't worry about it," Minoth said. "Wait here a second.”

He let go of her and left the room. Mythra thought, for a brief, stupid moment, that he might be going to find another dance partner. She swatted at her core, as if to say  _ bad thoughts! He can dance with whoever he wants, who cares if it’s not me! Anyone would be a better partner for him, anyway.  _ Her self-chiding didn’t come across as heart-felt as it probably should have.

Ugh. She hated being the jealous type.

That line of thought didn’t seem to matter, as when Minoth came back he hadn’t brought another dance partner. He was carrying a little black box in his arms, which Mythra recognized dully as a Morythan cd player. He set it on the windowsill, where the sun was still struggling to shine in as it sunk behind the horizon, blew the dust off of its solar panel, and hit the  _ on _ button.

After a few moments of the player whirring and wheezing, trying to read the no-doubt ancient cd in it, a soft piano melody started floating through the room. Minoth smiled, satisfied with his work, and reached for Mythra’s hand.

“I thought music might help,” he said kindly.

Mythra hesitantly smiled back and took his hand.

It helped a little bit. Now that they had a rhythm to follow, their moves were more fluid, less clunky and awkward. Minoth was actually very good at dancing, but Mythra should’ve expected that, given the grace and poise he moved with in battle. Her footwork was stiff by comparison. Maybe another side affect of her lack of  _ refinement _ ? Her reliance on brute force over grace or strategy? She remembered Brighid’s scathing criticism and blushed hard, this time from shame.

Then she stepped on his toes again.

“I am so sorry,” she said, mortified.

Minoth laughed. “Don’t worry about it! You  _ are  _ a bit offbeat, though. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, just…” Mythra gulped. “You know.”

“Not sure I do, but that’s fine,” Minoth said, in the sweet and accommodating tone she hated to love. “Just relax and follow my lead.”

“Okay,” she said, squeezing his hand slightly. Hoping that one little gesture would say all the things she couldn’t. “You’re the boss.”

\---


	3. Far - Rex/Nia/Pyra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Word: far. No warnings.  
Word count: 787
> 
> Nia dreams.

\---

He was so far away.

Nia ran and ran and ran, but Rex didn't seem to get any closer. He was just out of her reach, standing stock still with his back facing her, and although he wasn't moving she couldn't catch up to him. She kept tripping over the ground; it was shifting under her feet, sliding between the gentle plains of Gormott and the white sands of Leftheria. Her feet were sinking, her boots weighed down with water and sand, and she couldn't find any traction.

She screamed. And Rex still didn't turn around.

That told her more than anything that something was off. Rex would never ignore her, or anyone, in trouble. It's like his brain was hardwired to ignore everything else in favour of always doing what was "right." No matter how important whatever he was looking at was, he'd always turn around if she screamed.

Unless he was looking at Pyra.

But Nia didn't think he was. She couldn't see anything beyond him. 

"This is stupid," she muttered to herself.

"I agree." He was standing right next to her, suddenly. Even though she'd just spent the past thirty minutes chasing after his back, she couldn't bring herself to look at his face. Instead she turned just enough to catch him in her peripheral vision.

"It's not like you to say that," she said. "You love this kind of emotional gunk."

"You do, too." He turned to her. "Even if you won't admit it."

"I can't," Nia said, not bothering to elaborate. She knew what was happening now, and there was no need. He'd know what she meant.

The dream Rex gave her one of those dazzling smiles the real Rex usually reserved for Pyra, and one time, for Fan. It was the kind of smile that could make anyone short of breath, but she knew they were never intentional. Rex wasn't much of a flirt. It was just the kind of expression you'd reflexively give someone you liked.

And Rex liked Fan because she was pretty and Pyra because she was perfect. Nia knew she was; she was beautiful and sweet and sad and perfect. Everyone liked Pyra.

"Everyone including you?" dream-Rex asked. "What's the problem, then?"

She glared. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You like Rex and Pyra and Pyra likes Rex and you and Rex likes you and Pyra. No problem at all."

Nia scoffed. "Pyra does not _ like _me. And Rex doesn't, either."

"Right," he chuckled. "She made you breakfast the other day and brought it to you in bed because she hates you. You know cooking is an expression of love, right?"

"Oh, shut up," Nia snapped. "This is getting me nowhere."

"You know Pyra likes you," he continued, ignoring her. "So the problem is Rex, right?"

"...so?"

"Tell him."

"I can't. It wouldn't even matter if he ever looked at me. I've been lying to him. I just… can't tell him."

"That you love him?" A soft breeze blew through the air. The scenery was shifting again, becoming lush with crystal waters and pink trees. "Or that you're a flesh eater?"

"That last bit."

Dream-Rex cocked his head. "You think he'd hate you?"

"Probably not," she said miserably, "but I still let Vandham die."

Dream-Rex looked at her for a few seconds before shrugging and saying "your choice."

She woke up without warning. A little gasp, a quick rub at her eyes and she was up and not going back to sleep easily. She glanced over at Pyra's bed to see her yawning drowsily.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," Nia said.

"That's okay. You were tossing and turning for a while." Pyra lifted her sheet up a bit. "Want to join me?"

"Do I what?" Nia said, looking rapidly between Pyra's pretty, kind face and the empty spot next to her on the bed.

"I don't mind. And it's cold. You could use the extra warmth, right?" Her smile was teasing. Nia smiled at the memory of clinging to Pyra like she was her own personal heater as they made their way through Tantal.

"Well, alright," she said, getting out of her bed to pad over to Pyra's. She slid in beside her, and barely kept her breath from hitching when Pyra laid an arm over her.

"Goodnight," Pyra murmured. Her eyes, red and gold like liquid iron, were already growing sleepy again. Her heavy eyelashes fluttered closed. After a few minutes of slow, steady breathing, she pulled Nia closer in sleep.

Nia placed a tentative hand in her short, red hair and smoothed it out against the pillow. _ Pyra likes me, huh._ She closed her eyes. _ Maybe. _

But they still felt so far away.

\---


	4. Poison - Rex/Nia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Word: poison. No warnings.  
Word count: 924
> 
> Rex and Nia find themselves in mortal peril, are saved by a knight in shining armor, etc etc.

\---

"What," Nia hissed, "are we going to do now."

She and Rex huddled together on their tiny rock, both of them desperately trying not to slip and fall into the water below. Normally this type of situation wouldn't be much of a problem, as Rex was a salvager and Nia had grown up in Gormott where there were plenty of rivers and lakes. The point was, both of them could swim quite well. Water was never an obstacle for them.

Except that this water was bubbling. And purple.

"Ah." Rex gulped as a bubble burst right next to the rock, sizzling as it splattered his boot. "Um. We swim?"

Nia growled. "And how do you expect us to swim through poison, genius?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know." Rex grabbed her arm to keep her from sliding in. The rock was unfairly slippery. Why did it have to be so slippery? Why couldn’t they have landed on a nice, large, dry rock? Or better yet, the cliff right above them?

"Oh, relax, I know it's not your fault," Nia said. "It's not like you meant to drop your anchor shot when we fell." She eyed the water swirling around their little island warily. "When d'you think the others will find us, exactly?"

"Soon, I'm sure," Rex said, although he didn't know how sure of that he really was. Spirit Crucible Elpys was a sprawling maze, after all. "Maybe Mòrag will have us grab her whip swords."

"I suppose between death by poison and 3rd degree burns, I'd pick the latter," Nia said.

Rex imagined touching Brighid's hot blue flames and gulped. "You can have my gloves. They're sturdy."

"Heat resistant?"

“Not really.”

Nia gripped his arm tighter as her feet started to slip again. “Ah, well. Better than nothing, I suppose.”

They were stuck doing an awkward dance for the next several minutes, where Nia would start to slip and Rex would stabilize her, and then Rex would start to slip and Nia would stabilize him, and then they’d repeat the process. Rex was starting to get tired, but he did his best not to show it. Now wasn't the time to let himself fumble, not with Nia depending on him.

"Hey," Nia said, looking down at their feet. "I know this isn’t the best time, but about what happened earlier, at the inn in Tantal."

"I'm sorry about that," Rex immediately replied. "I know I was being stupid, and -"

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Nia scrambled up the rock again as she started to slip, and Rex pulled her closer. He was suddenly very aware of how close their faces were, and judging by the blush spreading on Nia's cheeks, so was she.

"So… what then?" he asked.

"Pyra really loves you, you know," she said quietly. "Mythra, too. They're counting on you not to give up on them."

Rex smiled. "I won't. I promised them."

"You don't get it," Nia muttered. "I can tell just by looking at you. You're the kind of guy who's always sure of yourself. You don't  _ need _ anyone else - you'd be just fine on your own. You don't know what it's like, to… to…."

Rex coughed a little as a bubble of poison rose into the air and burst right next to his face. He struggled to keep his eyes from watering. "Nia?"

"To need someone else's confidence," she continued, her voice taking on a strained tone. "You don't know what it's like to rely on someone else's assurance that you deserve to be here. Pyra is counting on you for that. She needs you to stand with her. Mythra, too."

"And you?"

Nia looked up, startled. Rex wasn't usually so perceptive, but on rare occasions like these he was able to catch on pretty quickly.

"I'm fine," Nia said, trying to look into his eyes and failing. "Don't worry about me."

"Nia," Rex murmured. He leaned in a little closer, and Nia didn't think it was because he was slipping. She leaned in too, reflexively matching his movements, and then - then -

"Hey, I found them!"

Rex immediately pulled back, almost yanking both of them into the poisoned water below. Roc was quick to swoop down and catch him, pulling both him and Nia into his arms.

"Woah, there, are you alright?"

"Yes, absolutely," Nia said at the same time Rex answered "one hundred percent."

Roc cocked his head at them, but didn't say anything as he beat his wings gently and floated up to the ledge above them. Mòrag and Brighid were just running in from the adjacent room, with Zeke, Pandoria, Tora, and Poppi following close behind.

Rex caught sight of Mòrag's whip swords and sighed in relief.

"Thank goodness you're alright," Brighid said, placing a hand to her chest.

Rex grinned weakly, still not over almost falling into the poison pit and on top of that unsure about the…  _ thing _ that just happened with Nia. A quick glance at her and he saw she was blushing slightly. She caught his gaze and whispered "later."

As they walked back to the stairs they'd been climbing when they'd fallen, Rex started trailing behind. Roc trotted up to him and gave him a friendly jab in the ribs.

"So, you and Nia seemed cozy earlier," he said, grinning.

Rex blushed furiously. "It wasn't like that! We nearly died, Roc!"

"Yes, you nearly did. Have any last minute revelations?"

Rex buried his face in his hands and groaned. He was starting to wish he'd fallen in the poison, after all.

\---


	5. Illuminate - Malos & Amalthus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Word: illuminate. Warning for brief but gross description of violence/death, and thoughts about killing/death.  
Word count: 1092
> 
> Malos visits Amalthus during the Aegis War.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is labeled as gen but there are _very_ light implications of Malos/Amalthus that can be ignored easily. interpret it however you like!
> 
> not gonna lie, this chapter was hell to edit. hopefully it turned out ok ;-;

\---

The sun would be up in a few hours to illuminate the world. Many people who saw it set the previous day would not be there to see it rise.

Malos looked around at his handiwork. His vision was hazy, blurring together colors and forms, and odd static was running black lines across the image. He thought for a moment that his core might be malfunctioning, but the idea was quickly dismissed as irrelevant. He didn't need much longer to finish his task.

He took a step forward and heard a _ crunch _ as his boot connected with something on the ground. It was white and red, mushy and crunchy bits all mixed together. A skull? And brain matter? Perhaps. He dug his toe into it, smearing it around in the grass. Maybe if he mixed enough of the red and green together it would cancel out. It ended up looking pretty brown, but he couldn't be sure that wasn't just the dirt coming through.

There was more crunching as he walked out of the village, stepping over burnt bodies and houses. There were a few other sounds, too, mostly gasps and cries from behind the walls he hadn't bothered to knock over. He'd left survivors, then. He really should kill them, but using his power made him tired and his vision was still shifty, so he decided against it and focused on getting out of there before some misguided do-gooders showed up.

A gargoyle appeared just as he reached the town gate, which was now reduced to a few planks of wood that were blackened and smoking from the explosions. He jumped on the gargoyle's back and held on as it whirred up into the air, moving silently despite its size and speed.

The further he got from the village, the more his vision cleared. His thoughts cleared, too, and he wondered what would happen to those villagers he'd spared. They'd probably end up as bandits, angry and desperate and with nothing left to lose. He figured those types of humans had probably caused more death in the past few months than he had. Humans were easily swayed into violence, after all.

He looked down. The titan was steadily getting further away, but he could still see the black craters he'd made when he'd attacked. There was smoke coming from the area around it, probably from fires that were still burning.

"It'll keep the maggots warm, at least," Malos muttered.

His gargoyle turned. It knew where he wanted to go without him saying it. After it straightened itself out, Malos settled down and watched the sky as he waited for them to reach Indol.

He and Amalthus had a strong affinity, despite everything. He must've sensed Malos was coming, as much as that tiny human brain could sense things, because he was waiting on his balcony when Malos arrived.

"Hello, Juliet," Malos said, grinning despite the way Amalthus's eyebrows furrowed. This wasn't Morytha, after all. The people of Alrest didn't have Shakespeare. They didn't have a whole lot of humor, either.

"What do you want?" his driver asked. Always so dismissive, so uncaring. Like he believed he was above everyone else in the world. Or at least, like he wanted to believe so.

"Don't know," Malos answered honestly. "I just wanted to see you. Go over our battle plan."

Amalthus glared. "You mean _ your _battle plan. What you're doing has nothing to do with me."

"Oh, really," Malos said, grinning. "If you say so, driver."

"I'm not playing your games. If you don't want anything, leave," Amalthus said. When he went back inside his room, Malos followed.

It was a bit bigger than the one he'd been in before he was promoted. The walls were still their standard cream color, unpainted despite the fact that Quaestors could alter their rooms as they pleased. The bed was perfectly made. The only signs that someone lived there were the stacked papers on the desk and the salvager's suit hanging on the wall.

Amalthus pinched the bridge of his nose as Malos looked around. "What are you doing?" he asked irritatedly. “If someone sees you, it’ll cause trouble for me.”

Malos tapped at his core crystal. "I've got some more information to share. You interested?"

Amalthus glared at him, maybe checking to see if he was serious, maybe still annoyed by his presence, before grabbing a clipboard and pen from his desk and sitting down. Malos huffed at his driver’s predictability. Amalthus was always so eager to learn more about the way his world worked. He knew that more knowledge would inevitably lead to more power; Malos guessed that was what he was after. Power meant influence and having both of those meant he could become one of the most important people in the world. He just needed to be promoted one more time.

And then Malos’s father might recognize him and answer the questions he really wanted to ask. Malos was hoping for that, too.

He talked for about an hour, spilling little details about the functions of core crystals and the ways titan ether could be captured and consumed. Amalthus wrote down everything he said hastily, stopping every once in a while to ask short, clipped questions. Malos started slowing down after he’d given Amalthus some decent information and a lot of trash; if he talked too much, he wouldn’t have an excuse to come back later. And he wanted one, desperately.

“This is very good,” Amalthus muttered. “With this information we can proceed even further with the experiments. Thank you, Malos.”

‘_Now, let’s proceed with the experiment_,’ a voice in the back of Malos’s mind echoed. “Glad I could be of service.”

“If there’s nothing else, kindly take your leave.” Amalthus promptly stood up from his desk chair and put the clipboard away. Malos sat on the edge of the desk for a moment longer before laughing under his breath and jumping down.

“See you later, driver,” he said as he kicked open the balcony door.

_ What if something happens to him while you’re gone? _ the little voice in the back of his mind whispered. It always did, whenever he left Amalthus alone. _ What if you can’t get back in time to protect him? _

‘_He’ll die, then,_’ Malos thought. ‘_And he’ll get what he wanted_.’

The sun was illuminating the city as he left, white spires and gold trimming glowing blindingly in the light of dawn.

Malos wondered how many more dawns this world would see before he and his partner ended it. He hoped it wouldn't be many.

\---


	6. Comfortable - Malos & Patroka

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Word: comfortable. Warning for... bad language, I guess? (malos says fuck)  
Word count: 1025
> 
> Early morning conversations have a unique atmosphere.

\---

The Monoceros was bulky, metallic, and cold. Patroka suppressed another shiver as she walked barefoot to the kitchen. At least, to where she _ thought _ the kitchen was. There were about a million hallways in the damn ship, all of them looking almost exactly the same, and while the living quarters were all very close together she'd gotten lost several times in the short week she'd been on board.

She'd woken up because of Akhos's annoying habit of kicking in his sleep. He had his own room, of course, but ended up in her's almost every night anyway. Something about feeling anxious and worried over his sister's safety. In the end, she gave into his unreasonable demands and lost her shot at a good night's sleep.

As she made another turn down the hall, she saw a bright light flooding into the hallway from an open door up ahead. Patroka cautiously glanced into the room, wincing at the brightness of the ship’s artificial lights. It was the kitchen - score! - but it wasn't empty.

Malos glanced over at her immediately, even though she hadn't made any sound. They locked eyes for a second before he went back to messing with the coffee machine.

Patroka drew herself up and stepped into the room confidently. "Making a pot?"

"Sure am," he replied easily. "It'll be ready in a few minutes."

She nodded shortly, and leaned against the wall right next to the door. Malos was wearing sweatpants and a loose shirt, a far cry from the heavy armor she'd seen him in before. Jin had introduced them almost immediately when she and Akhos had first come on board. His second in command's terse glare had given her goosebumps until he'd given in to Jin's demand that they be allowed to join the mission. Whatever that was.

"So, what're you doing up?" Malos asked, causing her to tense. "It's early."

"You're up, too," she pointed out.

"Yeah, but I'm a blade." Malos turned to lean against the counter, facing her. His expression was much more relaxed than it had been the first time they'd met. "You're not, anymore. You need sleep."

"It's a waste of time," Patroka muttered. "You lie down for hours doing nothing productive, and you have to do it every night or your body breaks down. It's stupid."

Malos laughed. "I agree. Humans are funny creatures, huh?"

Patroka nodded. She didn't know what to make of Malos, exactly. He seemed so… different, from how she'd expected he'd be. From Jin's brief explanation of what Malos was and how they'd met, she'd expected him to be _ more_. More intimidating, more violent, more commanding. Instead he was apparently content to make decisions within Jin's approval range, and had no problems with cooking dinner for everyone or joking around with Mikhail. It was odd, seeing the Aegis act so casually. So normal.

Especially when she couldn't.

"So, tell me about yourself," Malos asked suddenly. "Who are you, exactly?"

Patroka regarded him warily. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing in particular. Just curious."

"Like hell you are," Patroka said. "Spill."

Malos laughed again, but it was more genuine this time around. "Jin asked me to talk to the two of you. He said you'd been having trouble adjusting, thought talking to one of your bosses might help. Trust me, I personally couldn't care less about who the hell you are."

Patroka snorted. "Good. I wouldn't want you to."

"Mm. Now, your driver?"

She fixed him with her best 'drop it now' glare. Unfortunately, it only seemed to work on Akhos, as Malos simply raised an eyebrow. The coffee machine gurgled as it finished brewing, and Malos took two mugs down from a cabinet, pouring a fair amount into both. "Want milk or sugar with it?"

Patroka shook her head, steeled herself, and came to sit at the little table in the center of the room. Malos joined her, sliding her mug of black coffee across the table while he poured an unholy amount of sugar in his own.

"There's not much to tell," Patroka began. She wasn't sure why exactly she was talking, other than that the atmosphere of the room was uncomfortably disarming. There was something about Malos she couldn't place, something which seemed lonely despite his obvious closeness with Jin and Mikhail. It reminded her of, well, herself. How did they manage to be so similar and yet so different? "Our drivers were a big brother and a little sister. After they got their dumb asses mortally wounded by some garluses, Akhos insisted we keep some part of them alive in ourselves. It was a dumb idea, but I went along with it."

Malos sipped at his coffee loudly. "Huh. That explains a lot."

"...about what," Patroka asked flatly.

Malos grinned. "You're his _ little _ sister. No wonder he's so overprotective."

"Ugh." Patroka gripped her mug tighter. "We are not siblings. That's just some stupid idea he latched onto. I’m nobody’s _ little sister_."

"Right," Malos said, drawing the word out like he didn't believe her. Patroka glared, and when that didn't do anything but make his smirk wider, she stood up and set out for the door.

"Make sure to bring the mug back when you're done with it," Malos said. "And Patroka."

"Yes," she snapped, barely managing to keep her temper in check. She was only bothering to try because she knew she couldn't beat the Aegis in a fight. Plus, trying to beat up one of her bosses probably wasn't a great idea, even by her standards.

"You're not stupid. You should know how lucky you are to have him," Malos said, his voice suddenly an odd mix of stern and soft. "Being cared for that deeply is precious. Don't fucking ruin it."

"...I know," she said. "I won't."

She glanced back at him. That one exchange had changed the atmosphere of the room, and now she could plainly see how world weary Malos was, even with the eternal youth and beauty of a blade.

She walked back to the table. "Now, big guy, it's your turn. What's the deal with you?"

With the warm mug nestled in her hands and Malos's oddly nostalgic war stories, the morning felt a lot more comfortable.

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my autocorrect kept changing patroka to patrols :(


	7. Unsuitable - Jin/Malos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Word: unsuitable. No warnings.  
Word count: 878
> 
> After the war ends, Jin and Malos have their first proper conversation.

\---

Malos had no idea what Jin expected from him. He’d taken the guy in, given him a warm bed to sleep in and probably his first decent meal in a while, but he was still looking at him like there was something more he wanted. Like there was something else he thought Malos should give him, when Malos wasn’t sure why he was giving him anything at all.

They were staying at an inn in Gormott - both of them trying to avoid going out except at night, lest someone recognize them - when he decided he’d had enough.

He sat on the twin sized bed opposite of Jin and snarled. “Alright, what is it?”

Jin had the audacity to look confused. “‘What’?”

“You’ve been staring for ages,” Malos said. “What more do you want?”

“I don’t want anything,” Jin said, letting his eyes trail down to rest over the plate covering Malos’s core. “I’m just… confused.”

Malos could work with that. “About what? If you’re asking why I’m helping you, don’t. I’m confused about that, too.”

“It’s not that,” Jin said. “Or maybe it is, but it’s only part of it. I don’t know what to make of you.”

For some reason, Malos felt insulted. “The hell is that supposed to mean?”

Jin fidgeted around on his bed before abruptly standing and coming to sit next to Malos. He was unbelievably close, with his thigh brushing up against Malos’s, and his face so close Malos could see where a few strands of hair were caught on his long eyelashes. “I had this thought,” Jin said, looking at where his hands curled together in his lap, “during the war. You always seemed sad. I couldn’t mention it anyone else, but I saw it. And now that everything is over, you don’t look any better.”

Malos cleared his throat. “What does that matter?”

“I want to understand,” Jin said softly. “I’m well acquainted with grief and loss, but this is something entirely different. Something I can’t wrap my head around.”

“I see,” Malos muttered. “Well, I don’t get it either, so don’t worry about it.”

Jin looked up to him. “Your irises are white,” he said. “I never noticed before.” Then he leaned in closer.

Malos startled. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m going to kiss you,” Jin murmured. “Let me, please?”

Malos placed a hand on Jin’s shoulder. He couldn’t fathom why, but his hand was shaking. “Why?!”

Jin sighed and let his eyes fall closed. Malos wondered what he saw in the darkness. Was it horror and death? Or something else? “We’re both lonely, I think. I’d rather be with you than alone. Don’t you feel the same way?”

“No,” Malos said. “Absolutely not.”

“Then why did you take me in?”

“That’s…” Malos quickly gave up on finding any words of substance. “Fine, do whatever you want. Kiss me.”

Jin’s lips were soft as they pressed against his. Malos wasn’t sure what he was expecting from the gesture, but his body felt oddly static where Jin was pressed up against him. Jin shifted his lips, and Malos noted dully that they were a bit dry. Without thinking, he licked them.

Jin hummed and slid a hand into Malos’s hair. He moved his lips to kiss him harder as his other hand came up to touch the guard covering Malos’s core.

It was suddenly far too much. Malos broke away, stood up, and turned to face the fire, trying to make sense of the way his whole body was shaking. Tears kept welling up in his eyes despite his attempts to blink them away.

Jin watched him from the bed. “I don’t understand you,” he said, redundant and sad.

“Me, neither,” Malos replied shakily.

Jin slid off the bed and made his way over, his boots falling lightly on the wood floor. He rested his hand on Malos’s shoulder. “Has anyone ever touched you kindly?”

Flashes of war, of brutal combat followed by a rush of hollow victory as he looked over the ruined earth ran through Malos’s mind. “No.”

“I see,” Jin said, but it sounded like he didn’t see at all. “I… don’t know anything. I thought I understood this world. Humans. But I know nothing.”

“I’ll help you learn,” Malos said without thinking. “I’ll do whatever you want. Just ask.”

Jin frowned. “That’s not….”

“What?” Malos snarled, going from confused to angry in a second flat. “I’m not good enough to replace your precious driver? Is that it?!”

“Are you even a person?” Jin asked, voice strained, eyebrows knit. The fire cast harsh shadows over his face. He looked beautiful and terrified.

Malos kissed him. This time he made sure to hold Jin’s arms firmly at his sides, and simply pressed their lips together without ceremony or passion. As the seconds passed Jin grew more relaxed and gently shrugged off Malos’s grip. He rested his hands on Malos’s shoulders, unobtrusive and safe. Malos realized then that this was the first time he’d ever been this close to a person without wanting to hurt them, without Amalthus’s fiery hatred burning in the back of his mind, telling him to kill, kill, kill.

He didn’t care if he wasn’t suitable for this. He never wanted to let go.

\---


	8. Damaged - Poppi & Pyra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Word: damaged. No warnings.  
Word count: 1085
> 
> Poppi wakes up and is immediately worried about Pyra.

\---

Poppi woke up feeling very impressed with her Masterpon. She hadn’t been alive very long, but she knew without a doubt that her Masterpon was the best driver there was. He worked long and hard to create her, and she’d never stop feeling grateful for it.

She had trouble walking around at first, so Masterpon helped her. It was weird to lean on him, since he was so short even compared to Poppi’s small stature, and they stumbled a few times as they walked in circles around his living room. Eventually Pyra stepped in to help, and Rex and Tora sat at the table to mess with some upgrades for Poppi’s battle systems.

Poppi cocked her head. “Masterpon already working on upgrading Poppi?”

“Of course!” Tora said. His ears wiggled. “Scientific achievement must never stop! Can always improve on original designs.”

“Poppi understands,” she said. “Masterpon is amazing!”

Tora smiled proudly, and maybe a little shyly, too, and went back to building her new element core. Poppi flexed one of her hands, looking at the orange glow lining her joints. The ether generated from her core was different from the gentle blue stuff that most blades had. It was probably suiting for something such as her to be as opposite from a real blade as possible. Artificial versus natural. Orange versus blue.

She looked up to Pyra, who was watching her with a sweet smile on her face as her hands rested on Poppi’s shoulders. Poppi placed a finger on her own cheek, cocking her head again in what her processing unit told her was the correct way to indicate curiosity.

“Why Pyra’s core not blue?” Poppi asked. “Is Pyra also artificial blade?”

Pyra opened her mouth to answer, but Tora cut her off without looking away from his work. “No, no, no! Pyra is aegis, so she different from other blades.”

“Powerful?” Poppi asked.

“You bet,” Rex answered.

Pyra kept on smiling, but she looked sadder than before. It was odd, seeing someone smile with sadness in their eyes. Poppi drooped. It reminded her of the very few times her processer had been active when Masterpon Tatazo had been around. She hadn’t had a body then, and had only been conscious in the slightest sense, but she’d seen him smile at Tora even though it was plain he was sad. She’d known then and there he was damaged.

She realized quickly what she needed to do. “Masterpon, can Pyra take Poppi outside?”

“Yes, yes, but come back soon,” Tora said. “Must get ready to rescue Rex-Rex’s friends. Lots to do.”

Poppi jumped happily, but she still wasn’t steady enough to land right on her feet and Pyra had to grab her shoulders again. After Poppi steadied, Pyra grabbed a coat off of one of the chairs - it was brown with cutesy ears, with Poppi didn’t really understand because Pyra was clearly not Gormotti. They made their way out the back door and into a short hallway cluttered with boxes. Then they went through one more door, and Poppi took her first step outside Tora’s house and into the world.

“Wow,” Poppi said. “The air so clean here!”

“Yes,” Pyra agreed. “There’s a nice breeze tonight.”

Poppi smiled. So far, so good. “Let’s go on a walk!”

“Poppi,” Pyra said, and she sounded so motherly Poppi could recognize it even though she didn’t have a mother, “we can’t stay out for long. The Ardainian army’s looking for me, and if they notice us we’ll be in big trouble.”

“But Poppi want to spend time with Pyra,” Poppi said. “Poppi has something Poppi must do.”

“Something to… do?” Pyra said. “Something you can’t do in front of Tora and Rex?”

Poppi nodded. Pyra glanced around for a moment, then pointed to a small table across one of the many bridges strung up between Torigoth’s buildings.

“There,” she said.

Pyra helped Poppi into her seat, and then sat down herself. The breeze blew harder here, encouraged by the narrow trench in the titan that much of Torigoth sat in. Poppi noted that while Pyra’s hair blew in the breeze, her’s did not. “What did you want to ask, Poppi?”

Poppi tapped her wrist, and her diagnostic sensor popped out. It was just a little meter with an ether sensor on the end, meant for detecting problems in her ether flow. It was useful for finding damage in all of her systems - including her emotional pathways.

“What’s that?” Pyra asked, still smiling.

“It diagnostic sensor,” Poppi chirped. “It will help Poppi find damaged part of Pyra.”

“D-damaged?” Pyra said. She looked shocked. “What makes you think I’m damaged?”

“Earlier, Pyra was smiling, but looked sad,” Poppi explained. She flipped the switch on the sensor and watched it whir to life, the tip pulsing with soft orange light. “There must be problem with Pyra’s emotion circuits. Poppi can help.”

Poppi held the sensor up to Pyra’s core, but a gentle hand pushed it away. “Poppi, I’m not damaged.”

Poppi put the sensor right back where it was. Pyra pushed it away again. “But Pyra’s emotional circuits are crossed.”

“No, they’re not,” Pyra said. This time she really did frown, and when Poppi saw the emotion in her voice and face match, she let the sensor fall. “Sometimes people can have mixed feelings. Sometimes they get sad and happy at the same time. And sometimes… sometimes they have to pretend to be happy, even when - even when they’re not.”

“...Poppi does not understand.”

Pyra patted her head. “You will, someday.”

Poppi’s sensor beeped as it finished analyzing the data. Poppi glanced down at it. Her eyes widened. “Pyra _ is _damaged.”

“...What?”

“Pyra’s core energy is fractured. One part is inactive, and other part is trying to overcompensate. Not working at full capacity. It not because of Rex’s half, either.” Poppi showed her the sensor. “Is Pyra okay?”

Pyra smiled again, sadder than before. Poppi’s heart hurt. “I’m okay.”

“But, Masterpon could fix Pyra -”

“Poppi. I’m fine.”

“...okay.”

When they returned to Tora’s house, Pyra laid a hand on Poppi’s shoulder at the door. “Poppi? Please don’t tell Rex I’m, um, damaged.”

“Poppi thinks blade and driver should share all secrets,” Poppi said. “But Poppi will not tell Rex or Masterpon.”

Pyra ruffled her hair, or tried to, but the hard shell forming it didn’t budge. “Thank you.”

Poppi spent the rest of the night looking at her sensor and wondering if not being able to understand made her damaged, too.

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was supposed to be a short poppi/tora centric chapter :(  
also nopon-speak is hard  
(in case it's not clear enough, mythra is the part of pyra's core that is inactive)


	9. Boy - Mythra/Rex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Word: boy. No warnings.  
Word count: 578
> 
> It takes Mythra five hundred years to understand love.

\---

Mythra had never really understood “love.” No matter how hard she tried, she could never quite wrap her head around it. It was something elusive and vague, like the wisps of smoke that rose from their campfires in the evenings.

“You understand the love between family members, right?” Addam had asked her once as they settled down for the night.

Mythra had snorted. “Of course I understand _ that_. It makes sense for family to have strong emotions tying them together. Like parental instinct to protect a child.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “It’s logical.”

“And yet you don't understand why people _ fall _in love?”

“It's more than irrational. It's stupid. There's no point in putting so much effort into keeping someone around for no reason.” Suddenly remembering that Addam had a wife, Mythra threw up her hands to beg _ peace, peace_! “I mean, I just don’t think I need to understand it. That’s all human stuff.”

“Blades can love, too, Mythra,” Addam said, but even through his patient tone Mythra could tell he was getting frustrated.

“Not me,” Mythra said. “I’m an aegis. We don’t do ‘love.’”

Addam grumbled something that sounded vaguely like _ I can’t believe this, you’re impossible_, and left to go to his own room.

The next morning, Lora joined Mythra at an otherwise empty table in the inn’s breakfast hall and presented her with a book.

“What’s this?” Mythra asked, shoving a spoonful of oatmeal into her mouth at the same time.

Lora sat down and slid the book across the table. “It’s a fable collection. It was one of my favorites as a child.” She ran her fingers over the worn cover. It was a deep vermilion, set with fading gold letters. “Most of them are love stories.”

Mythra groaned. “Addam put you up to this, didn’t he?” she asked, trying not to let her irritation show too much.

“Right on!” Lora said. She flipped open the book. “See, this book was compiled to illustrate the point that most love stories can be broken down to a single basic premise: _ boy meets girl_, or boy meets boy, or girl meets girl.”

“Huh,” Mythra said, resisting the urge to get up and leave. She liked Lora, really, but there was something about her that was just so perfect, so put together and mature and _ careful_. Something that made her the kind of woman that Addam _ should _have fighting by his side. Mythra often wondered if Addam wished she was more like Lora - or Haze, or Brighid. Or Jin. Or anyone but herself.

Lora kept talking about the fables. Mythra half-listened, half-worried, and accepted the book when Lora passed it over to her. She spent much of the rest of the day reading it, if only so she had an excuse not to talk to the others. Judging by the boisterous laughter that floated around the campfire later that evening, they were doing fine without her, anyway.

“Boy meets girl,” Mythra murmured as she trailed a finger over the pages. “How stupid. No one can fall in love that quickly. Stupid….”

She lost track of the book by the time they fought Malos, and didn’t think about it much during her five hundred years of dreaming. When she woke up again and Rex told her he _ just wanted to keep her safe_, she remembered what Lora told her: _ every love story can be broken down to boy meets girl_.

This time, she understood.

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i felt like this collection needed a short n sweet story, so here it is


End file.
